


Safe and Sound

by Kingsforcedvacation



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Torture, Panic Attacks, Safe and Sound by Megan Hilty, Song fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2019-09-12
Packaged: 2020-10-16 22:50:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20610662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kingsforcedvacation/pseuds/Kingsforcedvacation
Summary: Bluestreak has a panic attack after a mission gone wrong and Jazz comforts him. Later Bluestreak returns the favor.





	Safe and Sound

“Move!” Jazz yelled as the seekers flew in low.

His team ran for cover, barely avoiding the blasts that came raining down around them.

“Is it just me or are they more focused than usual?” Smokescreen asked as he dodged behind a pile of rocks.

“Yes, but we did just blow up one of their main weapons factories,” Bluestreak answered as he shot at one of the seekers. “Though that doesn’t explain why their aim has improved. Usually they don’t manage to almost hit us this many times in a row. Maybe they were developing new targeting systems in that factory we blew up. That would explain why they are so mad. I would be mad to if I lost a chance to have better aim too.”

“You would also be mad if we lost a weapons factory,” Smokescreen retorted. “And you already hit everything you target, why do you need better aim?”

“Could you all save the talking until after we are not being shot at?” Mirage cut in coolly.

Jazz peeked his head out from his hiding place while his teammates argued, then ducked his head back in with a curse.

“Ground troops just arrived. We aren’t going to make it if we keep trying to move together, we’re going to have to split up. Everyone remember where the rendezvous point is?”

Everyone answered in the affirmative.

“Good. We’ll meet there in four hours. If everyone doesn’t show up by the, leave and go get help. Good luck everyone.”

…

Jazz panted as he hid from the oncoming patrol. He had severely underestimated how determined the Decepticons were to get revenge for their fallen factory. He had been running for just over three hours now and to make it worse it looked like there was a storm blowing in.

Jazz sighed as he moved forward, before tensing at a sudden noise. He crept forward, quietly rounding a corner to find himself face to face with the wrong end of Bluestreak’s rifle.

“Jazz!” Bluestreak squeaked.

“Shhh,” Jazz hissed, putting his finger over his mouth.

“Sorry,” Blue mouthed.

Jazz gave him a ghost of a smile before motioning him forward. An hour latter they still hadn’t made it to the rendezvous point and the sky was looking ominous.

“We need to find shelter before the storm hits,” Jazz whispered.

“What about the Decepticons?” Bluestreak asked.

“Even they aren’t stupid enough to stay out in this weather,” Jazz said grimly. “Come on, I think I can see a structure over there.”

Jazz was right there was a small storage shack, and, luckily for them, it was still standing. They settle in for a long wait as acid rain began to fall, hitting the roof of the rickety hut. After a few seconds Bluestreak began to babble about random things, jumping from one topic to another without pause, voice steadily growing louder as the storm raged on.

Jazz watched in concern as Bluestreak slowly curled in on himself, even as he cheerfully chattered on.

“Blue,” Jazz said softly.

Bluestreak stopped talking and looked up from where his head had buried itself into his arms. Jazz carefully lifted his hand up and wiped away some of the tears that had fallen. Bluestreak looked at the tears in surprise, before his whole body started to tremble.

“I-I’m sorry,” Bluestreak stuttered. “I just- it- the seekers a-and being chased by them, and hiding in a small d-dark place, just wai-waiting for something to- to- to-”

Bluestreak was sobbing by this point. Jazz scooted over and pulled the Praxian into a hug. Bluestreak pause for a moment before latching on to Jazz and started to cry in earnest. Jazz just held on tighter.

He knew exactly what had Blue so upset. Bluestreak had been the only survivor when Praxus fell. He had seen the seekers coming and had hid in his creator’s basement. His home had collapsed on top of the entrance to the basement, so he had spent two days trapped in that place, alone, in the dark, able to hear the explosions and feel the vibrations, but unable to see anything or do anything besides wait for the seekers to come for him. This mission had struck too many cords for the young mech to keep it together.

Bluestreak whimpered as the rain picked up, almost vibrating the walls. Jazz pulled him closer and began to sing.

**“_I remember tears streaming down your face when I said I’ll never let you go.”_**

Blue froze in his arms.

**“_When all those shadows almost killed your light_**

** _I remember you said don’t leave me here alone_ **

** _But all that’s dead and gone and passed tonight.”_ **

Bluestreak shuddered as he listened to the words. It was almost eerie how closely they resembled his own emotions.

**“_Just close your eyes, the sun is going down_**

** _You’ll be alright, no one can hurt you now_ **

** _Come morning light, you and I’ll be safe and sound.”_ **

Bluestreak closed his optics and listened. For now, the song was enough to fill the painful silence.

**“_Don’t you dare look out your window, darling everything’s on fire_**

** _The war outside our door keeps raging on_ **

** _Hold onto this lullaby even when the music’s gone, gone.”_ **

As he sang Jazz pushed down the image of Praxus burning along with all of the other memories that threatened to rise up.

**“_Just close your eyes, the sun is going down_**

** _You’ll be alright, no one can hurt you now_ **

** _Come morning light, you and I’ll be safe and sound_ **

** _Just close your eyes, you’ll be alright_ **

** _Come morning light, you and I’ll be safe and sound.”_ **

Jazz smiled sadly at the sleeping form of Bluestreak. The war had already taken so much and yet it still raged on. Jazz dreaded to see what it took next, but for now he would stay up and guard Bluestreak from any enemy that tried to harm him until sunrise.

…

The next morning Bluestreak woke up in Jazz’s lap as the special ops agent shook him awake.

“The rain stopped,” Jazz said with a grin.

Bluestreak jumped up, face plates heating up in embarrassment. He had spent the whole night in his superiors’ lap, and worse, Jazz had witnessed Bluestreak’s meltdown. He lowered his head in shame of his own weakness, but jumped when he felt a gentle hand reach up and lift his head.

“Chin up,” Jazz said lightly. “You have done nothing to be ashamed of.”

Bluestreak worried his lip before looking Jazz in the optic.

“Thank you,” he said softly.

“Anytime.”

They carefully checked the room for anything they might be able to use before starting their walk to the rendezvous point. They only walked for a few minutes before Bluestreak’s will broke and he began to ask the questions that had started popping up since he woke up.

“What was that song?”

“It’s called Safe and Sound,” Jazz replied patiently.

“Did you write it?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Jazz stopped and stared at him, almost like he was analyzing his every move, before quietly saying, “I wrote it because I needed something to hold onto. It is a song I wish someone had sung to me when I needed it.”

They kept walking in silence the rest of the way to the rendezvous point, where their ride was waiting for them. They never talked about what happened, but Bluestreak never forgot what Jazz said nor the emotions behind the words.

…

Bluestreak was talking to Smokescreen when Ratchet ran into the rec room and made a beeline for them, no for Smokescreen.

“Jazz is back but he’s not responding,” Ratchet said gravely.

“I’m not a medic,” Smokescreen said in confusion.

“No, I mean he isn’t responding to anything we do. He won’t talk, he won’t move, he won’t even look at us.”

Smokescreen’s optics widened, “Take me to him.”

Both of them were in such a hurry that neither of them noticed Bluestreak follow them.

They made their way to the private room in the back of the med bay. Prowl and Optimus were already there, guarding their friend. Inside Jazz was curled into a ball, slowly rocking back and forth, he didn’t even notice the three new arrivals. Smokescreen went to his side as Bluestreak and the others watched with concern.

Jazz had been on a mission infiltrating the Decepticons when he had been discovered and captured. No one had heard from him since. That was three weeks ago. It looks like he managed to escape and make it back to base, but after words he just shut down. Ratchet had found him on the floor of his med bay, parts dangling off him or just plain missing, energon leaking from several wounds, and not giving a response to anyone.

“I don’t know what they did to him, but I can’t reach him,” Smokescreen finally said.

The five Autobots looked at the third in command in sorrow, before inspiration struck Bluestreak.

“I have an idea,” he said quietly, causing the other mechs to jump.

“When did you-” Ratchet started before Optimus cut him off.

“Let him try,” he commanded, giving Bluestreak the go ahead.

Bluestreak walked over to Jazz’s side and took a deep breath, **_“I remember tears streaming down your face when I said I’ll never let you go-”_**

…

Jazz was drowning in agony. Time meant nothing as he relived memory after memory from a time long past.

_Everything was on fire. The lab was burning, scientists were screaming. There was so much smoke he couldn’t see. People were running around, but he couldn’t move, still strapped down to the table. He could feel the heat as the fire kept creeping closer no matter how much he begged it to stop. Eventually it reached him, then he was screaming too._

Was he on fire? Everything seemed to burn. Was he screaming? He couldn’t tell.

_He was standing in front of a femme. She was strapped down to an examination table, tools laid out carefully beside her. The mechs behind the glass told him to hurt her, to make her scream. Why did they want her to hurt? Why did they want him to hurt her? A bolt of electricity shot through him from the collar around his neck. _

_“Hurt her or we’ll hurt you,” they said._

_He already hurt so much, maybe if he did what they asked they wouldn’t hurt him as much. He didn’t want to hurt anymore. He picked up the knife and went to work. The femme didn’t stop screaming until her vocalizer burned out._

Why did he have to hurt her? Did he really care that he had to? Why does it hurt? Where was he? Why-

A voice broke through his consciousness.

** _“The war outside our door…”_ **

He knew that song. It was important, though he couldn’t remember why. The urge to join in was strong though, and slowly Jazz opened his mouth and sang along.

…

They watched as Bluestreak sang, not expecting it to work, but willing to let him try anyway. Because of that they were amazed.

**_“Hold onto this lullaby even when the music’s gone, gone,” _**Jazz sang, voice ruff.

That was all he managed before he began to cry long, choked, sobs. Bluestreak just shifted closer and continued to sing. He will repay the favor Jazz did for him so long ago. This time he won’t let Jazz be alone when he needed someone. This time Jazz will get to here the song no one ever sang to him.

** _“…you and I’ll be safe and sound.”_ **

**Author's Note:**

> The song is Safe and Sound the one made by Megan Hilty.


End file.
